


the laws of gravity are very very strict, and you're just bending them for your own benefit

by spuffyduds



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Pittsburgh Penguins, Wingfic, mild annoying of cattle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/pseuds/spuffyduds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sid was surprised when they moved from teammates to...whatever they are now.  He's even more surprised by the wings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the laws of gravity are very very strict, and you're just bending them for your own benefit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whataboutmycape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutmycape/gifts).



> A million thanks to my speedy and kind beta Alice!

It’s still new enough, waking up next to Geno, that Sid’s confused for a second--there’s somebody in his _bed_ , what...oh.

Once his brain catches up, though, it’s good. He relaxes again, grinning at memories of last night--flinging clothes all over the hotel room, giddy from a win and from the newness of--whatever the hell this is. He’s struggling very hard not to think about it too much or he’ll fuck it up.

Geno’s still out cold, facedown in the pillow, making snuffly noises in his sleep. He’s had plenty of shut-eye at this point, though, so Sid doesn’t feel guilty about touching him and maybe waking him up. (And maybe going for a repeat of last night.) 

So Sid runs a hand up Geno’s back, softly--and then tenses right back up, because there’s a weird, big _lump_. Lumps are _bad_ , lumps mean injuries and _broken_ people, but there’s no bruising, and...wait, there’s a matched set of the swellings, one just inside each shoulder blade. So maybe it’s just musculature, maybe Geno’s just...arranged a little differently there--but no, because the lumps are too hard under his fingertips to be just muscle.

“Geno, what the _fuck_ ,” Sid says, loudly, and Geno wakes up, rolls to his side, blinks at him.

“Hmmm?” Geno says. He has pillow wrinkles on his face.

“What is going on with your back?”

“Oh,” Geno says, and goes from looking at Sid to looking down at the sheets. Sid is maybe not the most naturally talented at reading people, but even he knows that’s not good. “Is just weird muscle thing. Happens sometimes when I am most relaxed,” Geno adds. He stretches, arms above his head, then says, “Gone now. See?”

Sid runs his hand down Geno’s perfectly smooth, perfectly normal back. But that doesn’t make any _sense_.

“That makes no sense, Geno. Have you had the team doc look at it?”

Geno sits up, leans back against the headboard, and finally looks Sid in the face again.

“Sid,” he says. “Is nothing. Not a worry. Can you not worry?”

Sid actually bursts out laughing, and Geno smiles a little. “Okay, dumbest question,” he says. Then his face goes serious again, and he says, “I know you can keep secret.”

Sid nods, because yes, obviously--sleeping with Geno being one example. But Christ, what is going _on_ here that’s such a big secret--is Geno _dying_ or something?

Geno closes his eyes, slumps forward a little away from the headboard, takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

And _wings_ explode out of his back. Huge fucking wings.

Sid scrambles wildly backwards and _away_ , and then he’s somehow staring _down_ at Geno, who looks sad and worried.

“Is still just me,” Geno says softly. “Stop freaking.”

“I’m not freaking!”

“Sid, you are standing on armchair. Naked.”

“Oh,” Sid says, and sits down. He looks at Geno’s face some more, _not_ at the...things that can’t be there, and makes himself get up again and move closer to Geno, sit on the corner of the bed. “Sorry,” he says, “I was just--I don’t like surprises.” 

“Heh, everybody knows that.”

“You want to...explain?”

Geno shrugs. This makes the wings shudder, and Sid can’t keep not looking at them. They’re kind of--pretty, really. Feathers in various shades of brown and tan and white.

“Nothing to explain,” Geno says. “Is a family thing. Most of us get them at--” he does that clutchy-hands thing he does when searching for a word in English--“Teenage? Growing?”

“Puberty?”

“Yes. Is hard to learn to keep them pulled in, takes a while. We get ‘sick,’ stay home from school to practice.”

“Can I?” Sid reaches toward him. Geno nods, and Sid runs a hand gently along the top of one wing. It feels good, soft.

“How does it all _fit_ in there? Where’s the extra mass coming from? Isn’t that like--an extra set of limbs? I mean, birds have them _instead_ of arms, not plus arms.”

“Sid,” Geno says, and he’s starting to smile again, “is not science. Is magic.”

“Oh sure, you’re _magic_ ,” Sid says, rolling his eyes.

“Sid. I have _wings_.”

“Well. Yeah. Okay, point.”

He reaches out both hands and strokes the tops of both wings this time. Geno’s eyes close and he shivers a little, and to keep from thinking about what _that_ might mean Sid says, “But you can’t fly, right? I mean, they’re huge but there’s still no way they’d support your weight. You’d have to have hollow bones, like a bird. Pretty sure the team docs would have noticed hollow bones by now.”

Geno leans close and kisses him, pulls back and smiles. “ _Magic,_ Sid.”

“Really? _Flying_?” and Sid’s not even embarrassed that he almost squeaked that, because, my god, _flying_. That must feel incredible. That might even feel better than skating.

“Not room enough in here,” Geno says. “Need to run to start, I can’t go up straight like helicopter.” 

Sid scoots a little closer, goes back to petting the wings gently.

“Mmmm,” Geno says. “Sometimes I drive out into country late at night, just fly for a while, is beautiful.”

“Beautiful,” Sid echoes, because Geno’s dark little nipples have tightened and the blanket across his lap is twitching interestingly. “You like having them touched, huh?”

Geno actually blushes. “Secret from everybody but family, and family doesn’t touch, because--is not family kind of feeling.”

“Oh,” Sid says. “Oh, I’m the first--” and then he can’t keep from cracking up because this is just all so crazy. “I’m taking your feather virginity,” he says, very solemnly, and Geno whacks him on the side of the head with a wingtip.

That somehow drives off the last of Sid’s freaked-ness. He’ll probably have a million more questions later, and this is still weird as hell, but it is also still just Geno. Sid pushes on his chest until Geno topples obligingly over onto his back and Sid climbs on top of him, kisses him hard.

“Wait,” he says, panicking suddenly and getting back up on his knees,”is that okay, you lying on them, all that weight and mine too?”

Geno growls and grabs him by the waist and yanks him back down, so apparently it’s okay. And this time while Sid’s running his teeth down Geno’s neck, Geno wraps his wings around Sid. Sid nibbles his way down Geno’s chest, sucks at his nipples, and it’s great, wrapped up in a warm dark curve of down.

Geno’s making encouraging rumbly sounds under him so Sid keeps going, slides the blanket down and takes Geno’s cock in his mouth. He fucking loves this, loves the taste of him and the way Geno can’t stay still or quiet, wiggles wildly under him and thrashes his head around and keeps up a stream of emphatic Russian with the occasional heartfelt English “Fuck!” thrown in. 

Geno tightens his wings a bit, and now every time Sid raises his head on the upstroke he’s rubbing his hair up against the feathers, and Geno gets even louder, and louder, and comes. 

His wings flutter.

Sid swallows and gives the tip of Geno’s cock a little goodbye kiss.

Geno pulls him up by the arms and holds him tight for a minute, which is great, but Sid can’t help rocking his hips down against Geno a little. Geno laughs into his ear and rolls them over, gets a hand on Sid and jacks him while one wing trails ticklishly down the side of Sid’s ribs.

Sid doesn’t think he’s ever come while giggling before.

Geno squinches his face up and retracts the wings. “Wow,” Sid says. “Doesn’t hurt or anything?”

“Nope. Sometimes is a little itchy, if I don’t let them out for long while.” Geno flops down beside him, yawns.

“Hey,” Sid says. “You can’t---you’ couldn’t _carry_ anyone, could you?”

“Sure,” Geno says. “Have carried little cousins, before they got their own wings. They were not as heavy as you. But flew with a calf once, probably your size.”

“A _calf_?!?”

Geno grins. “I was fifteen, was a little drunk. I put him down right away, because--don’t think he liked it. But he was not too heavy. You want to fly, Sid?”

“Yes,” Sid says, instantly.

Geno chuckles. “Maybe you blow me while we’re up there.”

“Maybe _not_. Maybe you pay attention to what the hell you’re _doing_ when we’re in the air,” Sid says.

“Kidding,” Geno says. “Mostly.”

They half-doze for a while, peaceful and sticky, and then Geno says softly, “You know--no telling anybody?”

“I’m telling _everybody_ ,” Sid says. “Maybe Harrison Mooney will make a video. He’ll sing ‘Wind Beneath My Wings.’”

“You are giant asshole, Sid.”

“Yep, and you know I’m not saying anything to anybody, dumbass.”

“Yes. Okay,” Geno says, and Sid pulls him into his arms, spreads his palms over the warm spots where the wings are waiting. Because Sid can’t bring himself to say, _it’s all right, everything that is you is always more than all right with me_ , but at least with Geno it’s easy to talk by touching. And they’re still tangled up, touching everywhere, when they finally float off into sleep again, the day dropping away like discarded gravity.

\--end--

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] the laws of gravity are very very strict, and you're just bending them for your own benefit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1315996) by [AshesandGhost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesandGhost/pseuds/AshesandGhost)




End file.
